Thursday, March 8, 2012


9 years in, one out.
Soccer practice for our 3 year old.

Honey, I have a headache. I need to go lay down.

He didn't get back up, except to yell at me or wander around the house.

I now have three children.

Funny, he is dizzy all the time.
Must be rough.
He just... collapses. When there is someone to see it happen.

I can't leave now. He has a mystery illness.
Every single doctor says nothing is wrong.
I need to nurse him back to health?

He is in bed.
For a year.

For. A. Year.

He is in my space.
For a year.
No breaks.
No breaks.
Just constant dialogue.
It never stops.
I am in hell.

One day, at soccer practice, he decided to take a break from life.
He left me a single mom with a house full of bills and three dependent people.
I can't leave now.
The bastard knew I wanted out.

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